


just fine

by teadear



Series: #SpankSuga2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Spanking, Spanking, Suga gets overwhelmed too, Team Dad Sawamura Daichi, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teadear/pseuds/teadear
Summary: Daichi strode to him with his eyebrows set in a straight line, his jaw clenched so tight Suga could clearly appreciate his displeasure in its hard outline.There was fire in his eyes.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Sugawara Koushi & Kageyama Tobio, Sugawara Koushi & Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi & Ukai Keishin
Series: #SpankSuga2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973800
Comments: 18
Kudos: 77





	just fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yamadad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamadad/gifts).



> I am kinda very self-conscious about this because I wrote it in Spanish then translated it to English (to practice, since lately I'd been feeling like I was lacking vocab, though I found out I'm starting to forget my vocab in Spanish too 🤡 ), so there might be a few things that sound funny. I apologize beforehand.
> 
> This is set somewhere in between the first qualifiers, after Seijoh lost to Shiratorizawa, and the summer camp in Tokyo.
> 
> This is for my beloved Kami, Lovely, Whimsi and CW, who were supporting me through all the process of writing this. Thank you for being sweethearts. I love you so so much 💖

Suga ought to be angry. He was well aware of that.

And he’d been at first, to be fair, when they’d just caught Kageyama practicing on his own that morning. A little, at least. Enough to join in the collective scolding.

Now, however…

Now, as he saw his little _kouhai_ reemerge from the storage room with Daichi, head hanging low and eyes brimming to the top with tears, all Suga could feel was his heart breaking in thousands of tiny pieces.

“Kageyama! How could you be so stu—”

“Hinata,” Suga chided, giving their little middle blocker a stern, disapproving glance that made him go silent immediately. The boy pouted and looked away, his small fingers whitening as he tightened his hold on the ball in his hands.

Hearing a small sniffle made Suga sigh.

Of _course_ Hinata would be upset too. He’d been waiting for this day just as anxiously as Kageyama had, so hearing the doctor say the night before that his quick partner would have to take another _two days of rest_ had clearly affect him just as much.

He reached to run his fingers through Hinata’s hair, in an attempt to comfort him, but the boy didn’t even look his way. Suga decided not to insist. With Kageyama out of commission until Saturday, Hinata would need to focus even more than usual during today’s training so he’d still be able to perform at his best the next day; so there was no use in upsetting him any further by trying to get him to talk.

Suga patted his back gently, and Hinata reacted immediately, eyes shining with renewed determination. He gave a small jump and then he ran back to his position, ready to resume practice.

“You better get _all the rest_ , Kageyama!” Hinata yelled, but he wasn’t looking at his friend. His eyes were laser-focused on the ball he was about to serve. “I won’t forgive you if you’re not ready to play against Seijoh on Sunday. Just stop moving around at once, okay?”

Suga felt his lips curving into a small smile. _Ah._ So he’d been worried for nothing, like usual.

Aoba Johsai’s players, practicing in the court next to theirs, didn’t seem as moved as him.

“Very courageous from your side to assume that you’ll make it to Sunday, baby carrot” Oikawa said, and Suga had to bite back a small growl. “I mean, it’s not like you’d have a chance even with Tobio-chan playing, but without him you won’t last more than half a game.”

Suga heard Tanaka squawk in outrage but decided not to even grace Oikawa with a glare. Instead, he turned around to look back at the other side of the gym, where Kageyama and Daichi were. Daichi was whispering something to their little setter while he helped him walk to the benches, an arm firmly secured around his waist so he wouldn’t have to put much weight on his injured ankle.

Kageyama’s face was streaked with trails of tears that had yet to dry, his cheeks flushed and swollen from crying. There was also a small crease in his brow, and Suga didn’t miss the almost imperceptible stiffness in his gait, nor the hiss that escaped his mouth when Daichi guided him to sit down.

He winced in sympathy.

Suga was, unfortunately, very well acquainted with how mean and heavy Daichi’s hand could be when he set to it. It wasn’t the first time he dragged Kageyama out of everyone’s sight so they could have a _talk_ regarding his behavior, but it was the first time that he did so in a gym that wasn’t Karasuno’s, in front of many teams of other schools.

It made sense Kageyama was taking it harder than usual.

Ukai and Takeda-sensei joined them shortly after, and the first thing Ukai did was to crouch down in front of Kageyama to take a look at his ankle. This probably was the last thing that was inconveniencing his poor _kouhai_ at the moment, after the encounter he’d just had with Daichi’s hand; but it made sense that the adults were concerned.

Suga returned his attention to practice and decided not to think too much about Oikawa’s words, though they were still echoing in the back of his mind.

“Sugawara-kun! Could you please come for a second?”

Suga turned his head to look back at the benches, blinking curiously, and his stomach twisted into a knot when was met by Takeda-sensei’s eyes, heavy with worry. He exchanged a pair of glances with Asahi and Ennoshita before going to where their advisor stood, aside from the small circle that’d formed around Kageyama.

Daichi and Ukai were still talking to him —they’d been at it for quite a _while,_ now that Suga realized. Takeda-sensei gestured him to come closer, probably so the others wouldn’t hear them.

“Sugawara-kun,” Takeda-sensei said, glancing sideways at their little first year. “Will you please talk to Kageyama-kun? I think he could really use a few words from his _senpai._ Me, Sawamura-kun and Ukai-kun have been trying to make him feel better, but I don’t think it’s working.

“Is something wrong?” Suga asked, his heart skipping a beat. “Is it because Daichi—”

“No, no, no, I don’t think that’s it,” Takeda-sensei hurried to reassure, smiling shyly, though it was hard to feel calm when his eyes were shining with so much concern. “Kageyama-kun is clearly _not_ happy about that, but I think he learned his lesson. And he’s lucky Sawamura-kun was the one to deal with him, really, because if _I_ had been the one to catch him this morning...”

The sudden change in Takeda-sensei’s tone sent a chill down Suga’s spine.

“Then…”

“He won’t stop begging us to let him play tomorrow,” Takeda-sensei said, voice softening. “His ankle doesn’t hurt anymore, and it’s barely swollen, so it’s being really hard for us to make him understand that this is under no circumstance a possibility. I understand why he’s so frustrated, when it’s only been a month since the qualifiers, but we can’t risk him getting hurt again.”

_The qualifiers._

The breath rushed out of Suga’s lungs, so suddenly that he felt nauseous for a moment.

“Ah,” he mumbled, and gulped, trying to conceal his agitation. He managed a small, hesitant smile. “Kageyama is very stubborn, Sensei, I don’t think he’ll want to listen to me. It’s not like there’s a lot I can tell him, anyways. I understand why he’s feeling like this. Any of us would, in his place.”

That was a lie, but, what else could Suga say?

From the very beginning, since they’d been invited to that training week along with another handful of schools from the Miyagi prefecture, Karasuno’s goal had been unequivocal: win the small friendly tournament that would have place towards the end. It would only last three days —from Friday to Sunday— and the prize was only an all-paid weekend at the _onsen_ for the winner team, not making it to the nationals; but all the members of Karasuno had prepared as arduously as they would have for another round of qualifiers.

They’d defeat Aoba Johsai this time, that was for sure. It didn’t even matter that Shiratorizawa and a few other schools hadn’t even accepted the invitation. All what mattered was that they were going to take the victory back from Aoba Johsai.

That’d been their initial plan, at least.

Until Kageyama had sprained his ankle barely a few days before the camp started, and he’d had to skip the first four days of training with the other schools before the tournament.

“ _Sugawara-kun.”_

Suga lifted his head, startled, and realized only then that he’d been avoiding Takeda-sensei’s gaze. His cheeks burned.

“Sugawara-kun,” Takeda-sensei insisted, and Suga couldn’t help flinching at first when he placed his warm hands on his shoulders. Takeda-sensei gave him a soft squeeze, comforting him with a gentle smile, and Suga smiled back shyly. “ _All_ the first years listen to you, all the time. They also listen to Sawamura-kun, of course; but this is _Kageyama-kun_. He is your _kouhai._ I can promise you he holds your opinion in higher regard than most people’s, even if he’s not the best at showing it.”

Suga’ eyes pricked and had to take a very deep breath in an attempt to appease the anxiety what was slowly digging deeper and deeper into his stomach.

“Okay,” he said, voice barely a whisper, trying to push back the memories that’d been tormenting him throughout the last month. Sensei was right. He was Kageyama’s _senpai._ Reassuring him when he was feeling so distressed was his responsibility. He had to do this.

Takeda-sensei’s smile widened.

Suga hadn’t even entirely crouched down next to Daichi when Kageyama’s eyes were already glued to him, staring as intensely as ever. Suga stiffened a little and tried to smile at him in the same way Takeda-sensei had smiled to him, but every trace of calm melted away from his own face when he was met by a closer sight of his baby _kouhai’_ s one, still covered in tears.

A lump formed in his throat.

“But we have to win _all_ the matches if we want to play against Seijoh,” Kageyama protested, voice strangled. His eyes looked as serious as always, and he had his seemingly permanent frown on, but his damp cheeks betrayed how genuinely upset he was. “I want to play against Seijoh.”

“We all want to play against Seijoh, Kageyama,” Daichi said, his tone firm but gentle. “We will win all the matches. We prepared very well for this, remember? Everything will be just fine. And, if you follow the doctor’s orders, you will be ready to play against them on Sunday.”

“But I want to play tomorrow,” Kageyama sniffled. “I feel fine, my ankle doesn’t hurt, why can’t I play?”

“Because the doctor said _no_.”

Suga felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up upon perceiving the promise of danger that hid behind that uncharacteristically low and grim voice. He had had to hold his breath to try and to make his nervousness less evident.

 _Since when could Coach Ukai sound so stern_?

Kageyama had to have worked very hard to get him like this. Suga had never before heard Ukai use such a severe tone outside of a match.

“It won’t be of any use to let you play tomorrow if you’ll end up injured again,” Ukai said. “If that happened, then it’d be _for sure_ that you wouldn’t play against Seijoh. No matter how much you scream and cry and beg. You’re _lucky enough_ you didn’t end up hurting yourself today, Kageyama, or I wouldn’t hesitate a single second before sending you back home.

“You can’t!”

“Of course he can, Kageyama,” Daichi said. “And mind your tone, or would you like to have a conversation about that too?”

Kageyama lifted his injured foot, and it took Suga longer than it should’ve to realize that what he was pretending to do. Daichi was much faster, luckily. His hand shot up and wrapped firmly around the boy’s calf, stopping him right before he could stomp his foot down _viciously_ on the wooden floor.

When Suga risked a peek at Daichi’s face, he almost went into cardiac arrest, even though his murderous intent wasn’t directed to him.

If they hadn’t been surrounded by players from other schools, that little stunt would’ve undoubtedly earned his little _kouhai_ a very well-placed smack to his bottom, no doubt. Suga shuddered only by picturing it.

“You need to trust your teammates, Kageyama,” Ukai said, eyes just as cold and unamused as Daichi’s. “They’re more than capable of winning tomorrow’s games. Leave it in your _senpai’s_ hands. Sugawara has been training very hard too, and there are still lot of things you could learn from him. You’ll benefit from watching him play for a day.”

Kageyama, who’d fixed his pouty glare on the floor after his tantrum had been thwarted, raised them to look into Suga’s eyes once again. Suga almost gave a tiny start when he saw the intensity that burned in his, even through the tears, and had to suppress the urge to look away.

And then Kageyama blinked. It was only a second, but Suga didn’t need more to recognize what he feared the most flashing through his _kouhai_ ’s eyes.

_Doubt._

It was like someone had just spiked the ball directly against his stomach.

He was left breathless and speechless for an entire second, but luckily no one seemed to notice. He blinked many times to push back the few tears that’d gathered behind his eyes, inhaled deeply, and smiled as brightly as he could, so widely his cheeks hurt.

“Yes, Kageyama,” he said, unhelpful, pathetic. “Trust your _senpai._ He has everything under control.”

He didn’t say a single word more.

“It’s very frustrating, isn’t it?”

Suga froze in his place, his eyes still fixed on the ball that Oikawa was handing him back after Hinata had spiked it into their court in a rush of excitement.

Oikawa didn’t let go of it when he tried to tug at it.

“To think that you’re only being allowed to play because Tobio-chan is hurt,” Oikawa said, and Suga could _hear_ his smirk perfectly. “It’s a bit like using you, isn’t it? It seems very rude from your Coach’s side for me. Poor, poor Suga-chan. I would’ve really liked to have the chance to play against you again, so soon; it’s a shame that you won’t even make it to Saturday.”

Suga let go of the ball, turned around, and left.

* * *

Everything was too bright.

Suga tried to swallow, despite of how dry of his throat and mouth were, and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. It was _cold._ His skin was burning in the way it always did when he was in the middle of a game, but his hands simply couldn’t get warm. He couldn’t focus, either. He was overwhelmingly aware of every single drop of sweat that trickled down his skin, every labored breath that heaved his shoulders, every beat of his heart, every yell and every small brush against any of his teammates. It was _too much_ , and his temples were pounding, and if he moved too fast everything would spin around him. His stomach was tied into a knot so tight it was making him nauseous.

He jumped to catch the ball in the air, then jumped again to toss it to Tanaka. He knew, before the ball even stopped touching his fingertips, that the arc would be too low, and that it wouldn’t reach the other boy’s point of contact, and that he’d failed _yet again_ , but the tears that sprung to his eyes weren’t only of anger at himself.

They were of agony, too.

He bit down _hard_ on his lower lip and curled his hands into a fist, doing his best to conceal it as frustration from hearing Date Tech’s cheer of victory.

“Sorry!” he said, immediately, clenching his hands so tightly his nails dug into the soft skin of his palms to avoid whimpering. “I am sorry, Tanaka. That was too low. I will try again.”

“Suga-san,” Nishinoya said, from somewhere close to him, and Suga forced himself to straighten up and take a very deep breath. “Suga-san, are you really okay? After the second set—"

“I said I am fine, Nishinoya!” Suga hissed, turning around to glare at his friend. He didn’t realize what he’d just done until he was meeting the other boy’s bewildered eyes, full of incredulity. Nishinoya’s eyebrows slowly scrunched together, and Suga had to bite back a small curse.

_Fuck._

Of all the people in his team, Nishinoya just _had to be_ the one that was paying him the most attention. Nishinoya, whom nothing ever escaped, who had the sharpest eye and intuition out of all of them.

“Here they come!” Asahi yelled, and Suga immediately turned back to face the net, bracing himself for the next play.

They were tied. They’d taken the first set, but Date Tech had taken back the second one, and now they were in the second half of the third one, and Karasuno was winning only by two points. They didn’t have time to worry about unimportant things. Winning their first game of the day hadn’t been due to more than good luck, and if Suga’s body didn’t start cooperating soon, they would be left behind in a blink.

Date Tech had just picked up _momentum_ , and they were catching up to them at an alarming speed. All because Suga was too distracted trying not to worry his teammates and see the ball through the thick fog that clouded his mind to play properly.

_Pathetic._

Date Tech, thanks to heaven, wasn’t playing around. The ball soared through the air with a whistle that made Suga’s skin break out into goosebumps, and it was received immediately by Daichi.

A few passes, and then the ball was going towards Suga again. He lifted his hands, trying to remember where was who, who had more advantage, how high Hinata needed his toss, how long he had to wait so Asahi would have time to jump to hit the ball, how well Tanaka had done in his last successful spike…

He jumped, not knowing yet what he wanted to do, and the entire gym spun around him.

The ball fell before he did and, when his feet hit the court, searing hot pain shot up his left leg.

He crumbled to the ground with a cry.

It wasn’t until the ringing in his ears finally died down that he could hear them.

“Sugawara-san!”

“Suga-san!”

“Suga!”

“Referee!”

The whistle blew, and Suga felt his heart stop.

_No. No, no, no, no, no!_

This couldn’t be happening _right now._ When they were so close to win.

“Sugawara-san!”

Two small, trembling hands touched his back hesitantly. Suga immediately uncurled himself and got on his knees, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to hold back a groan; much more concerned about soothing his little middle blocker than about whatever was going on around him. Hinata’s large brown eyes glistened with tears, which made sense given how scared he looked, but at least his face was dry.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, nothing is wrong,” Suga whispered, taking the boy’s hands in his and trying to warm them up. It didn’t work. His were just as cold, if not even more. “Nothing is wrong, see? I am okay.”

“No, Sugawara-san, you’re not okay!” Hinata whimpered, frowning even while his lower lip wobbled. “You’re injured, and you didn’t tell us!”

Suga felt the gym swim around him once _again_.

“No, no, Hinata,” Suga said, forcing a smile, even as cold beads of sweat trailed down his face and his chest heaved with pained pants. “It was only a misstep. It took me by surprise, but it’s nothing. I am ready to continue.”

“Suga-san! You see, guys? I told you I’d seen his ankle twist during the last set! Suga-san, you’re an idiot!”

“Nishinoya!”

“What? He lied to us! For practically an entire game! Do you understand how serious that is, Asahi-san?”

“Sugawara-san…”

“Azumane-san, help me to take him to the bench!”

“NO!”

Everyone went silent, all of sudden, and only then did Suga realize that he’d just _yelled_ at his tiny _kouhai._ When he looked back at Hinata’s face, and saw his cheeks now damp with a few tears, his blood froze in his veins.

_This can’t be real._

“Sugawara-san,” Hinata said, drawing his eyebrows so tightly together they almost became one, stubbornness shining bright in his eyes in spite of everything. “We will take you to the bench now.”

Suga swallowed.

Hinata had the same look he always had before he scored a point. The _there’s no human force able to stop me_ look. In any other moment, Suga would’ve felt deeply endeared by it.

Right now, however…

“Sorry, but no,” he repeated, hardening his voice. When a warm and familiar hand came to rest on his shoulder, he shrugged it off. “No, thank you, Asahi. I am good here.”

“Suga, you can’t…”

But Suga wasn’t listening anymore. He disregarded his teammates’ distressed screaming as he got back to his feet, not bothering to favor the side that hurt, and he shoved Tanaka’s hand away when he tried to touch him.

“I said I am _fine_!”

“SUGA!”

Suga’s heart jumped to his throat, and everyone went silent once more.

It took him an entire minute to finally gather enough courage to look behind him. When he finally did, his knees suddenly felt weak, and not from pain.

Daichi strode to him with his eyebrows set in a straight line, his jaw clenched so tight Suga could clearly appreciate his displeasure in its hard outline. There was _fire_ in his eyes.

He was furious.

Suga closed his eyes, convinced that in any second, he’d be feeling the sting of Daichi’s discontent blooming on the exposed skin of his thigh.

It never came, though.

Instead of that, a strong arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him tightly against a firm and warm body, securing him in place. Suga blinked and craned his neck to glance up, then had regrets when he found himself staring straight into Daichi’s stern, unforgiving eyes. They were so close their noses were touching.

His boyfriend rested his very heavy, _very broad_ hand on his hip —a silent warning— and then, without further explanation, started dragging him across the court to the benches.

Suga started squirming.

“Daichi” he protested, trying really hard not to let his voice waver. “Daichi, no, I am okay. Please, listen to me. We need to finish the match, I can’t…”

“Suga,” Daichi said. “Stay _still_.”

The sharp contrast of his warm breath caressing the back of Suga’s neck and the cold calm of his tone sent a shiver run down Suga’s spine. He evaded his gaze and blinked many times to try and get rid of the wetness in his eyes, but he didn’t offer resistance again. He couldn’t bring himself to, anymore.

As soon as they reached the benches, and he lifted his head again to confront whatever look Takeda-sensei and Ukai had in their faces, he felt the air leave his lungs again.

“Can I go now?” Kageyama asked, practically bouncing in his seat. “Not yet? And now? Can I go now?”

“Wait, Kageyama,” Ukai chided, as he fiddled with the boy’s ankle brace. “We’re still on time out. I want to make sure your ankle is well wrapped.”

All trace of strength left Suga in that moment. He sank back against Daichi, almost in defeat, and heard him gasp softly in surprise. Daichi was quick to readjust him in his arms so he’d be carrying most of his weight now, and Suga recognized immediately a shift in the way he was being held. Daichi’s grip became much gentler, soft instead of imprisoning; and he even patted Suga’s hip in a way that was much more comforting rather than threatening.

He pressed his lips against Suga’s temple as he lowered him to sit him on the bench, and Suga had to inhale very deeply to swallow the tears in the back of his throat.

“Now?” Kageyama asked, yet again. “Can I _please_ go now? Please?”

“You’re a brat, Kageyama,” Ukai growled, but his smile was full of fondness. He put Kageyama’s sneaker back on, and he patted his leg. “You are ready. Come on, kid, off you go.”

He didn’t have to say it twice. Kageyama got to his feet like a spring, his eyes lightened up like a kid’s in a candy store, and just when he looked ready to bolt off to the court, he seemed to remember something.

“Thank you!” Kageyama chirped, dropping into a hasty bow.

Ukai’s eyes crinkled for a second, full of affection.

“You better be very careful” he warned. “No pushing yourself too hard, understood?

“ _Hai_!”

Suga closed his eyes and started doing his breathing exercises, trying to forget about the stabbing pain in his ankle and to make the tears stop gathering behind his eyes. Daichi carded his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp soothingly.

“Sugawara-san!”

Suga’s eyes snapped open. He was met by his kouhai’s, large and bright and full of excitement and determination.

“I won’t let your effort go to waste! We will win this match.”

Suga felt his lips part in shock.

He couldn’t produce a single sound before the boy turned around and _ran_ into the court. Ukai started yelling immediately, threatening to bring him back to the bench, and only then did Kageyama lower his speed. He met Hinata in the middle of the way, who couldn’t stop bouncing up and down, and Suga had to look the other way when his eyes started to sting.

Only to meet Ukai’s very very _unhappy_ ones.

“Speaking about brats,” Ukai muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes. There was no trace of amusement in them, nor endearment. There was only cold and hard disappointment, which sunk into Suga’s stomach like daggers. “Up, Sugawara. I’m taking you to the nurse.”

Suga stared at him for a full minute, his mouth still hanging slightly open.

“No,” he protested, his voice barely a whisper. Ukai’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “No, I want to stay here.”

“Sugawara,” Ukai hissed, through gritted teeth. “You just played for _forty minutes_ on a sprained ankle. I am not _asking_ you what you want, I am informing you what is going to happen. Get up, boy.”

Heat crept up Suga’s neck, flushing his cheeks in outrage. He clenched his fists tightly and held his Coach’s glare.

“Kageyama can’t play!”

Ukai stayed silent, his eyes widening in shock, clearly taken aback. Daichi immediately rested a hand on Suga’s knee and squeezed it, warning him to stop, but Suga couldn’t bring himself to obey.

“You can’t do this!” Suga yelled. “I am okay, I don’t get why none of you can understand that. I can still play. None of this is necessary.”

“Sugawara,” Ukai said, confusion slowly fading away from his face and being slowly replaced by the tense lines of deep disapproval. “ _That is enough._ ”

Suga clenched his teeth so tightly his jaw hurt.

“No—”

“Suga-san!”

Suga covered his eyes with one of his hands when he recognized the voice, drowning a groan.

“Suga-san,” it was Nishinoya. Suga could feel him moving to stand in front of him and leaning down, probably in an attempt to look into his eyes, but he didn’t move. “Suga-san. I am sorry.”

Suga held his breath.

He lowered his hands only a little, only enough to be able to see Nishinoya’s eyes, and for a second he swore he might throw up.

“I am so sorry. I should have insisted for you to be taken out of the game from the moment I saw your ankle twist in the second set. This is my fault. Please, forgive me.

Nishinoya bowed his head, with his eyes tightly shut, and Suga…

Suga saw red.

“I SAID I AM FINE! I AM FINE. WHICH IS THE PART NONE OF YOU CAN UNDERSTAND?”

And dead silence fell over the gym.

Suga didn’t register how loud he’d just screamed until he looked around them, panting, and saw all the startled faces that had turned in their direction. The lights still were too bright, blinding his eyes, and his temples were _screaming_ because of the pain, both in his head and his ankle, and everything felt too cold all of sudden.

“Sensei,” Ukai said, and Suga didn’t dare to look at him. “I’ll leave the team in your hands.”

* * *

Suga was so stunned that he couldn’t even blink before Ukai had caught him around the waist and started dragging him across the gym. As soon as he snapped out of his small trance, he started thrashing in the adult’s grip and protesting as loudly as he could without attracting more attention to them, trying to shift all of his weight onto his feet so he’d be harder to move. All he achieved was to get Ukai to readjust his hold so he could practically _carry_ him all the way to the locker room.

Suga squirmed, and twisted, and yelled, and even kicked a little, but Ukai didn’t even seem to mind. He opened the door and managed to haul Suga into the room, despite how much he was struggling, and then closed it behind them.

“And then, when Iwa-chan received—”

The voice faltered, and the room went silent. Suga felt twelve pairs of eyes settling on him, and flinched.

He fixed his eyes on the floor, wishing for it to swallow him, and ran out of voice to keep complaining. He let Ukai take him to the other side of the room, behind a row of lockers that blocked them from view, and only then did he glance back to where the players of Aoba Johsai were having their break.

He was met by Oikawa’s gaze. Suga’s face burned in embarrassment, and he whipped his head in the opposite direction so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. Their eyes had only met for a second, but he’d been able to see that there was no mirth or mokery in Oikawa’s.

It was more something like sympathy.

But that didn’t bring Suga any solace.

Ukai tried to guide him to sit down on one of the benches, but Suga resisted, and he ended up giving up with a sigh. He didn’t let go of him, though. He held him at arm length, and looked at the wall of lockers that separated them from the boys in the other side, like waiting for something. 

It seemed to come when the voices started filling the room again, a little awkwardly at first, but slowly growing louder and more confident; until it looked like their owners had forgotten entirely about what they’d just seen. Suga couldn’t bring himself to feel relieved, though. Not when they hadn’t left the room.

Ukai finally released him, crossing his arms over his chest, and slowly turned his head to face him with narrowed eyes. Suga tensed up immediately and evaded his gaze, unable to help himself despite his coach’s disapproving click of the tongue; and dragged in a shuddering breath in an attempt to calm his nerves.

Ukai wouldn’t— he wasn’t Daichi, he probably only wanted to talk. For real. Not, like, Daichi-talk.

“Sugawara,” Ukai said. “Eyes up.”

Suga bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut, then exhaled slowly. It wasn’t like the other boys could hear them, when they were chit-chatting so animatedly, so there was no reason to feel this apprehensive. He opened his eyes and obeyed, doing his best not to flinch when he finally met his coach’s displeased eyes.

_Why was he even this angry?_

“Very well,” Ukai said, though his grim tone made it obvious that nothing was well at all. “Mind to explain the meaning of the small scene you just made back there, kid?”

 _Kid._ The word made Suga want to squirm, made him feel like he was one of the first years that’d just been caught doing something naughty. It was _hideous._ He never wanted to hear it again.

“There’s no meaning,” Suga growled, softly. “Everyone else started making a scene first. They were fussing over _nothing._ They refused to listen to me. I am _okay.”_

As if to prove a point, Suga shifted his weight onto his left side, and saw _black dots_ dancing in front of his eyes when a sharp stab of pain crept up his leg, _ten times_ worse than anything he’d felt back on the court. He gagged, overwhelmed by the intensity of it, and panted until it faded back into a dull throb; and only then did he realize that Ukai had caught him before he could fall on his face

“Fu— for _heaven’s sake, Sugawara,”_ Ukai hissed. “You can’t even _imagine_ in how much trouble you are, boy. There’s no adrenaline left in you to keep you going only by the sheer force of _idiocy._ Pray to your lucky stars that this is not bad enough to keep you out of the court for more than a few weeks.”

Suga tried to drag in a deep breath, but ended up sniffling, and realized only then that his face was _wet._ When he exhaled it was a sob, and he had to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep more from spilling from his lips. Ukai sighed heavily.

“Just tell me what’s _going on,_ ” Ukai insisted, and his voice even softened a little. “I need to take you to the nurse. You can’t even stand by yourself. Why can’t you see it? You’re not ok—”

“I would,” Suga cut in, gritting his teeth. “Have been able to finish the game.”

Ukai stayed silent for a few seconds.

“There were only around twenty minutes left,” Ukai said. “Kageyama is perfectly capable of handling that much without getting hurt again.”

“That’s still not okay.”

“Why?”

Suga couldn’t help himself. He straightened up, and pushed himself away from Ukai; staggering back and barely managing to keep his balance.

“Because,” he _seethed._ “It should be _me_ out there, not Kageyama!”

Oh. So he’d yelled again.

The conversation at the other side of the lockers died down once again.

Suga glared right into Ukai’s eyes, no longer caring about the other team finding out about what they were discussing, and saw something shift in them.

“Very well,” Ukai repeated. “Have it your way, then.”

It was only a blink. Or at least that’s how it felt, for Suga’s exhausted and confused head.

One moment, he was blinking sluggishly at his coach, trying to figure out which was the best route to escape.

And the next, he was stumbling.

And falling over a lap.

His head swam for a few seconds. A warm, calloused hand lifted his left leg and guided it to rest on the cool wood of the bench where Suga had refused to sit only minutes ago, which brought relief to his throbbing ankle. His right leg was still touching the floor, bent because the distance was too short, and—

The hand came to rest on the small of his back, its weight and warmth somehow comforting, but…

_Clap._

The air left Suga’s lungs in a rush.

His leg kicked up in reflex, when the sting registered in his mind. He gaped at his hands, trying to remember in which moment he’d been dragged to the bench, in which moment Ukai had tugged him over his lap, in which moment he’d been positioned so carefully so he wouldn’t hurt himself any further; and then it finally clicked in and the burn began to spread across his left cheek.

Just in time for Ukai’s hand to come cracking down again, right on the same spot.

“Ah!” Suga gasped, startled, closing one of his hands into a fist. Another smack came, and Ukai wasn’t moving an _inch,_ clearly determined to build up an itchy sting, and the tears were already rolling down Suga’s face by the fourth one. “Ukai-san— ow! N-no, wait!”

But his pleas fell to deaf ears. Ukai didn’t stop until the sixth smack, and only then did he switch sides, but only to give Suga’s right cheek the exact same treatment. Suga heard rustling coming from the other side of the lockers, and felt all blood leaving his face.

_Fuck._

“No, no, no, no!” he whined, his entire face scrunching up, prompting a fresh wave of hot tears to trail down his cheeks in a rush. He kicked up his left leg higher in his distress, and that only earned him one particularly mean smack to the tender underside of his backside, _terribly close to bare skin._ Suga sobbed. “No, let me up, let me—”

“Let’s go get some food, shall we?”

Oikawa’s voice boomed and echoed throughout the room, unnecessarily high, drowning Suga’s pitiful pleas. That didn’t make Ukai stop, though. His hand kept falling rhythmically, alternating each cheek, awakening agony in every inch of skin in Suga’s rear. He squirmed and twisted, but Ukai didn’t even have to make an effort to keep him in place.

“Coach promised to treat us to milk bread today, I can’t wait.”

Suga bit down hard on his already abused lip to drown a whimper.

“Did you know the tangzhong’s magic ratio is five parts liquid to one part flour? That’s the secret to the fluffiest milk bread! I can’t— Kunimi-chan, no, no, you can put your shoes back on outside, you take too long. Alright, everyone, let’s go!”

Suga was too busy crying to follow their entire conversation, but soon after that he heard the door to the locker room opening and closing back again, and then there was silence.

He couldn’t help going limp in relief, a dismayed sob finally leaving his lips as he slumped on the bench.

“Okay,” Ukai said, and then his hand finally stopped. Suga sobbed a little more, covering his face with his hands and clumsily wiping away the tears, though all he managed was to make a mess. “Alright.”

His hand started rubbing up and down Suga’s back, soothingly, and while that did bring Suga some comfort, it didn’t do anything to distract him from his now throbbing backside. A few more tears made their way down his cheeks, but at least he could draw in deep a breath after a few seconds, which at least helped him to stop trembling.

“Now,” Ukai said, his tone gentler than before, but still _stern_ , warning implicit in it. “I’ll give you one more chance to explain yourself, Sugawara. What is going on with you?”

“I-I only—” Suga hiccupped. “I-I only wanted to play, and I didn’t w-want Kageyama to play. That’s it.”

Ukai sighed again, and this time it was deeper than before.

“I see,” he said. “Very well.”

A shiver ran down Suga’s back when cold fingers slipped under his waistband, a sharp contrast against his burning hot skin.

His breath hitched.

“No! No, no, wait, why, don’t—” he was practically choking in his tears, once again. He started squirming even more than before, but that didn’t stop Ukai from tugging both his shorts and his boxers down to the middle of his thighs. “No! No, I can’t, I really—”

He coughed and let his forehead rest against the hard wood, flinching when the chilled air of the room brushed against his warm bare skin. Ukai ran his fingers through his hair once, but then his hand disappeared again.

“I see you’re not ready to talk,” Ukai said. “So I’ll give you some more incentive. We don’t have a lot of time, after all.”

His hand hit against Suga’s skin and, without the layers of protection, the resulting sting had Suga jolting and crying out. A matching smack fell onto the other side of his bottom, and then Ukai picked up his rhythm again, not sparing any inch of his now uncovered skin.

“Stop trying to fool me into believing you’re being _selfish,_ Sugawara.”

He punctuated each word with a sharp smack and, by the end of it, Suga was _weeping._

That didn’t stop Ukai, though.

He kept going, even if the force behind of his smacks dropped drastically. His hand kept falling and falling, in a steady pace, and then Suga simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“I-It’s m-much more important,” he babbled, trying desperately to take in a deep breath, but inhaling tears instead. “It’s— K-Kageyama can’t get hurt, I— we need Kageyama more!”

He cried the last sentence, and then he melted into a puddle of regret and shame, and cried, and cried, and cried.

And Ukai finally stopped.

Suga couldn’t tell how much time he spent laying on his stomach over Ukai’s lap after that. The adult didn’t add a single smack after that, and instead the hand that’d been so mean only seconds ago proved to be able to give the best comfort too; sinking its fingers into his hair to scratch at his scalp and running its fingertips up and down his spine. It took him a while, but Suga finally managed to calm down, at least enough to breathe decently.

It wasn’t until then that Ukai finally pulled his underwear and his shorts back up, eliciting a whimper; and slowly helped him up. Suga was guided to sit on the bench next to him, despite his pleas, and was given another few minutes to feel sorry for himself and sulk.

Ukai wrapped an arm around his shoulders, though, and kept him pressed tightly to his side as he rubbed a hand up and down his arm, warming him up. The tears finally stopped, then, and Suga allowed himself the luxury of leaning into his coach’s warmth, deciding that there was no point in being shy anymore now that he’d just—

“You’re running a fever,” Ukai informed, calmly, and Suga felt his eyes widen. “For how long?”

“I,” Suga mumbled, genuinely disconcerted. “I thought it was only a headache, it went away when I took an aspirin.”

“Well,” Ukai said, voice tinged with disapproval, but still gentle. “Fevers _do_ give you headaches, kid. Take your temperature next time, just in case.”

_Oh._

“Even if it’s just a headache, you shouldn’t play if you aren’t feeling at your best,” Ukai said. “That’s how accidents happen. As you can see.”

He patted his left thigh, and Suga felt like crying again.

“But the game—”

“This isn’t even a _real_ tournament, Sugawara. The team won’t die if we don’t get to go to an _onsen_ for a weekend. Well, Takeda-sensei and I just _might,_ because you brats keep taking years off our lives with this sh— this kind of incidents. But it’s okay, we’ll pull through. We always do.”

Suga sniffled, and Ukai sighed.

“But even if this was a real tournament,” Ukai said. “ _No_ member of this team is disposable. Much less you, Sugawara, when everyone relies so much on you. By pulling off this _stupidity,_ you weren’t only being an asshole to yourself, but also to all your teammates. You worried them to death today.”

Suga had thought he had no tears left, but was proved wrong when a few more escaped his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to,” Suga muttered. “I just— I felt _bad._ I really didn’t want Kageyama to risk getting hurt only because I’m not good _enough,_ and…”

He hiccupped.

“And, I-I was also being selfish,” he admitted, sobbing softly. “I really wanted to show him that he can _trust me,_ but—”

“That he can trust you?” Ukai’s eyebrows rose. “Sugawara, what— why wouldn’t he trust _you_? He couldn’t take his eyes off of you today. He followed every movement, and clearly took note of your interactions with the rest of the team. He was excited to play, sure, but, damn. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t _trust you._ ”

Suga blinked at him through the tears.

“He looked inconsolable when he was told to trust me yesterday,” he protested. “I saw his face, he was—”

“He was,” Ukai interrupted. “Very, very upset because he thought he wouldn’t be able to back you up if something happened to you, like you always do with him.”

Suga’s heart skipped a beat. He stared at Ukai with his eyes as wide as they could be, with how swollen they were.

“What?”

Ukai drew him closer so he could rub his face with both of his hands, and Suga’s face ended up pressed against his shoulder.

“He only stopped being insufferable after I promised I’d let him play if something happened to you, but for less than half a game,” Ukai explained, voice drowned by his hands. “And I made him promise me and Takeda-sensei that he would be _extremely_ careful if that happened.”

Suga burrowed his face further into Ukai’s shoulder, letting the fabric of his jacket soak up some of his tears. Ukai let him be, surprisingly, and started caressing his hair again.

“I have been such a bad _senpai,”_ Suga lamented, after a while, heaving a small sob. “I just— I’m always feeling so _guilty,_ because I’m jealous, and I’m always thinking things I actually know are not true, all because I’m just bitter Kageyama is better, even though he works so hard. I just feel like I have to make up for it, all the time, and…”

He gave a tiny start when Ukai’s hand slid down to pat his sore hip, and stayed silent.

“None of that,” Ukai said. “Having these kind of thoughts is only _human,_ Sugawara, and that doesn’t matter at all. What matters is whether you act on them or not. And you’ve been nothing but _kind_ to your _kouhai_ so far, so there’s no reason for you to feel guilty.”

Suga sighed and nodded, his movements too slow, and then was suddenly aware of how weak his body felt indeed. Maybe Ukai was right. Maybe he _was_ running a fever. Hinata had come down with a cold only a week before the camp, so now Suga had probably caught the same thing.

“Okay, I guess that explains it,” Ukai said. “I’m not _pleased,_ but at least I’m glad to know the truth. Now all that’s left is to hope you didn’t ruin your ankle too much, or we’ll be having reminders of this conversation much sooner that you’d think.”

Suga tensed and protested when he was nudged to stand up, wincing when the fabric of his underwear brushed against his tender skin. He hissed, then felt terrified upon remembering how _short_ his shorts were, and tried to assess the damage—

Except he didn’t get a chance, because Ukai scooped him up in his arms before he could do anything else.

“No!”

“You like the word ‘no’ quite a lot, don’t you, kid?” Ukai exhaled heavily through his nose. “Not letting you walk with a sprained ankle and a _fever_ on top of that. Get comfortable.”

Suga still had the nerve to struggle a little in his arms but was easily persuaded to behave with a single smack more. He finally went still and resigned himself to his fate, letting his head rest on his coach’s shoulder and trying not to think about the fact the nurse and _his_ _teammates_ would undoubtedly know what had happened only by looking at his tear-streaked face and noticing how much trouble he was having sitting down comfortably.

 _Spanked_ just like one of their naughty first years by their coach. By this point, Suga couldn’t really be sure if his face felt so warm because of the fever or the embarrassment.

Hinata and Tsukki would be ecstatic.

* * *

It turned out, at the end, that Karasuno had lost against Date Tech. Sugawara felt awful after being explained that none of his teammates had been able to focus because of how worried they were about him, and it certainly didn’t make him feel better to find this out as his entire team spilled into the nurse’s office, demanding to see him.

His teammates were as patient with him as he always was with them, though, so he’d be okay at the end. That was for sure.

And, if not, well.

If not, Ukai didn’t mind lending a hand.

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason, from the moment I started the anime and I saw Suga on screen, I immediately knew I wanted to write him getting in trouble. Why? To be honest, I am not entirely sure. I just feel naturally compelled to discipline self-sacrificing characters, and Suga clearly is one of these.
> 
> He also became my favorite character, so that probably has a lot to do too 🤡💖 anyway, thank you a lot for reading. I will probably be torturing him a little more, hopefully with a much more decent use of English language.


End file.
